


Always

by AarinsRitsuka, Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits), HolyCatsAndRabbits



Series: Alba [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley, Christmas Lingerie, Christmas Smut, Christmas fic, Crowley has a vulva, Crowley is (still) Raphael, Demon Aziraphale, Established Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fic/Art Collab, Fluff and Smut, Illustrated, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, aziraphale has a penis, christmas gifts, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28131924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AarinsRitsuka/pseuds/AarinsRitsuka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits/pseuds/Dannye%20Chase, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits/pseuds/HolyCatsAndRabbits
Summary: “My, my,” the demon Aziraphale said finally, with a smile on his lips, “an angel for Christmas. You are a gift. I wonder what I should do with you.” He took a couple of steps closer and Crowley shivered, which made Aziraphale smile more broadly. “You know,” he said, “you’re lovelier than any other decorations here. Perhaps I should set you on the mantle and just look at you.”**This fic takes place in a fantastic reverse AU created by Sparky (AarinsRitsuka), where Aziraphale is a powerful demon tasked with selling secrets, and his best friend is the Archangel Raphael the healer, who is living on Earth under the name Anthony J Crowley.Art by Sparky, fic by Dannye. Created for the AntiChrist-Mas Zine
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Alba [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631878
Comments: 23
Kudos: 86
Collections: AntiChrist-mas Zine Collection





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley calls Aziraphale “Alba,” which comes from the Latin for barn owl: _Tyto alba,_ (literally owl white). It’s the AU version of “Angel.”
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone, and thank you so much to the AntiChrist-Mas mods for all their hard work!

It was cold, of course, seeing as it was December. But the demon Aziraphale had made a practice of never letting the archangel Raphael (who was better known as Anthony Crowley) feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, and so Crowley found himself hurried from car to cottage. The minute they stepped inside, Aziraphale snapped his fingers and a fire sprang up in the fireplace. Beyond the crackling of flames, they could hear the hushed voice of the ocean, dancing in the dark with the shoreline.

“It was a lovely party,” Aziraphale remarked from the kitchen, as Crowley hung their coats in the hall closet. “Anathema quite outdid herself.” Crowley could hear the clink of glasses as Aziraphale took them from the cupboard.

“Lovely party,” Crowley agreed, a little absently, as he straightened his clothes. He had dressed with special care today, silky black trousers and a soft red sweater, and he wondered if Aziraphale had noticed. He probably had. Very little ever got past Aziraphale. The demon was something of a dealer in secrets, which were often deposited in his head by Hell. Until recently, Aziraphale had run a library which sold the secrets for the price of sins. Aziraphale had always been a special expert on his best friend the archangel Raphael, and the irony of that was that Raphael— Crowley— had always had more secrets to keep than any other angel.

Aziraphale came out into the living room now carrying a bottle of red wine. He poured two glasses and left them on the mantelpiece to breathe. There was a Christmas tree near the fireplace (Aziraphale had forbidden it to catch fire), and Crowley reached out and ran his fingers over an ornament that was catching the firelight: a little crystal book.

“1967,” Aziraphale said quietly. “You gave me that one at the library that year.”

“I remember, Alba. Terrible year that was.”

“We were together,” Aziraphale pointed out. “So better than some years.”

That particular story had started not in 1967, but in 1934. That was the year that Aziraphale and Crowley had stolen one moment together, one sweet, secret span of hours in each other’s arms. But finally accepting their love had made the world much more dangerous for them. It gave them weaknesses. And so rather than put each other in danger, they’d split apart, breaking their love into jagged pieces.

Thirty-three years later, in 1967, Crowley had heard that Aziraphale was looking to acquire some holy water. Crowley wasn’t sure why the demon wanted it— maybe it was just another rare treasure for the library. But Crowley had been so terrified at the idea of Aziraphale attempting to steal holy water that he’d driven up to the library in the Bentley and handed over a flask of it himself.

Aziraphale had been surprised. Crowley had been fearful, so much that he’d wanted to take Aziraphale in his arms again. But Aziraphale hadn’t let it happen. _It’s too fast,_ Aziraphale had said, and Crowley had known he was right.

That had been spring. When Christmas came around, Crowley had found himself back at the library. He’d had his emotions under control by then, and Aziraphale had let him in. They didn’t so much as touch, the whole night, and that was worse than ever because they _had_ touched once and knew now what it was like. But they’d kept apart. Crowley had brought the tiny glass book ornament and Aziraphale had hung it on his tree. (Demon or not, Aziraphale did love the library looking festive.) 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, dear,” Aziraphale said now, sliding a hand over Crowley’s shoulders, and Crowley leaned into the touch.

“You never upset me, Alba.”

Aziraphale laughed. “You shouldn’t lie, dear, it’s Christmas.”

“Speaking of, I have a present for you,” Crowley announced. 

It was futile to hope that anything could be a surprise to Aziraphale. The demon smiled and leaned up against a nearby bookshelf with one of the glasses of wine, giving Crowley the room he needed. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” he assured Crowley.

Crowley slipped his trousers and sweater slowly off his body and let them fall to the floor. Then he gave Aziraphale a saucy look. “What do you think? Festive enough?”

For a moment, Aziraphale said nothing, just looking. The lingerie Crowley was wearing was red accented with gold and white. His mesh stockings were attached to a garter belt with little bows. There was a pair of panties and a matching bralette with a quite unnecessary number of thin straps wound around Crowley’s neck and shoulders, standing out darkly against his pale skin. He was wearing his hair long today, and it fell in scarlet waves past his waist. 

Serpens was there too, of course. Serpens was a living constellation in the form of a beautiful purple serpent that made its home on Crowley’s body. It liked the lingerie as well— and the attention from Aziraphale— and was twining its golden stars over Crowley’s waist and hip.

Aziraphale still said nothing, but he put his wine glass down and made a little revolving motion with his finger. Crowley turned around, giving him the back view as well, growing warmer with excitement.

In 1934, when he and Aziraphale had spent their stolen afternoon in bed, Crowley had been a virgin. An angel would Fall for lust if he had sex outside of a loving relationship, and Crowley had never loved anyone before. Aziraphale, on the other hand, had been working with 6000 years of experience accepting humans’ offers to pay the sin of lust to him as the price for a secret. Not all the humans offered that payment, but there had been more than enough for Aziraphale to become quite an expert on physical pleasure. Crowley was… quite appreciative of this fact.

“My, my,” Aziraphale said finally, with a smile on his lips, “an angel for Christmas. You are a gift. I wonder what I should do with you.” He took a couple of steps closer and Crowley shivered, which made Aziraphale smile more broadly. “You know,” he said, “you’re lovelier than any other decorations here. Perhaps I should set you on the mantle and just look at you.” 

Crowley frowned at him. “Don’t you dare.”

Aziraphale smirked at him, and reached out to run a single finger down Crowley’s arm, which made him shiver again. 

“Did you think we’d get here?” Crowley asked softly. “In 1967? Ever?”

Aziraphale slipped his finger beneath one of the straps of the bralette. “There aren’t a lot of things I have faith in, Anthony,” he said. “You taught me that of all the things promised in this world, that I could have faith in love.” He tugged the strap down over Crowley’s shoulder. “You terrified me.”

Crowley laughed. “I’m sorry, Alba.” He caught his breath as Aziraphale ghosted his other hand over the back of Crowley’s thighs, below the panties and above the stockings. “You’re very easy to have faith in too, you know,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale stilled his hands and ducked his head a little, making a growling noise. “What have we said about the ridiculous compliments when I’m trying to concentrate?”

Crowley grinned. “That it’s hilarious the way they throw you off.”

Aziraphale turned back, the blush still evident on his cheeks. But he gave Crowley a severe look. “Do you want me to be thrown off?”

“Ah,” Crowley said. “Maybe not at the moment.”

Aziraphale hummed and in a quick movement, stepped forward so that his whole clothed body was pressed up against Crowley’s nearly unclothed one. Crowley tilted his head back as Aziraphale kissed softly along his neck and shoulder. His hands grasped Crowley lightly at the arms, holding him still.

“And, darling,” Aziraphale murmured, “if I hear a single pun having to do with Christmas carols about angels singing, I will stop.”

“You’re no fun,” Crowley complained.

Aziraphale smiled at him. “Really?” he asked, sliding a hand to Crowley’s waist and pulling him even more tightly against him.

Crowley gasped and Aziraphale slipped a hand into Crowley’s hair and brought his mouth close enough to kiss.

Kissing Aziraphale felt like the warmth of sunrises on cold mornings, of flowers blooming boldly even underneath the snow. It should never have happened, an angel falling in love with a demon, but somehow it had, and Crowley thought it must be the most beautiful thing in the world.

Aziraphale was gentle with Crowley, always, but he was also desperately hungry for him, always, and so, Crowley found himself turned in Aziraphale’s arms until he was facing away. Aziraphale then had room to slide his hand down Crowley’s stomach and under the waistband of his panties. Aziraphale shushed him gently as his fingers parted Crowley’s wet folds, exploring a territory the demon knew well. 

“No puns yet,” Aziraphale whispered. “I’m impressed.”

“You’re a little distracting,” Crowley managed to say. Aziraphale’s other hand had started toying with the top of Crowley’s stocking, and Crowley felt his legs start to shake.

Aziraphale made an amused noise and led Crowley to lie down on the sofa, where Aziraphale resumed his attentions, but this time with his mouth where his fingers had been. Crowley still wore all his lingerie, except for the panties that Aziraphale had snapped away. Aziraphale’s hands were soft on him, and his tongue gentle, which meant that Crowley spent quite a while suspended in pleasure before Aziraphale finally pulled him over the edge.

When he’d recovered a little, Crowley snapped his fingers to put a plush rug on the floor in front of the fireplace, and he drew Aziraphale down to it with him. “Take off your clothes,” Crowley ordered crossly, and Aziraphale laughed as they undressed him together. 

“Leave yours on,” Aziraphale said, and it was a request, not an order, but Crowley did, slipping his leg over Aziraphale’s hip and sinking down onto his cock, riding his lover in the soft lights of the Christmas tree.

Aziraphale really was ridiculously good at this, but Crowley’s favorite part of their lovemaking had nothing to do with what Aziraphale could do for him. It was when the demon let _himself_ go into pleasure, the moment where he stopped thinking only of Crowley’s desires and took what he needed. And after Crowley had come again on Aziraphale’s cock, there it was— tight fingers on Crowley’s hips holding him down with demonic strength while Aziraphale thrust up into him forcefully. He arched his back, coming inside of Crowley with a groan.

And then of course, Aziraphale was focused on Crowley again, pulling him down into his arms and rolling him over on the rug, kissing him softly. 

Eventually, Aziraphale murmured, “I have a present for you, too.”

Crowley laughed. “Another one?”

Aziraphale held up his hand, dangling an ornament in the firelight. It was two bright red birds sitting on a snow-covered branch above words spelled out in green script: _Our first Christmas together - 2019_

“Oh,” Crowley breathed. “It’s so tacky. I can’t believe _you_ bought something this tacky.”

“You love it, don’t you?” Aziraphale asked drily.

“I do!” Crowley exclaimed. “But you know— we _were_ together, really, in 1967. We couldn’t say it, but we were.” He took a finger and rewrote the date. - _1967._ But then he frowned. “Or maybe, should it say 1934? I mean we were—”

He broke off as Aziraphale raised a hand and erased the words and numbers altogether, and wrote instead

_I’ve loved you at Christmas_

_Always_

__

**Author's Note:**

> Sparky and I will be releasing a collab work on New Year's Eve as well, written for the To The World zine!
> 
> You can find the 1934 scene in the first fic of this series: [Tyto Alba](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21670678)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are so appreciated! And please feel free to check out our other works: [AarinsRitsuka (Sparky)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AarinsRitsuka) & [HolyCatsAndRabbits (Dannye Chase)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits).
> 
> Find us on tumblr [Sparky (Crowleyisms)](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/crowleyisms) & [Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits)](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/holycatsandrabbits)  
> Twitter [Sparky (Horrorimus)](https://twitter.com/horrorimus) & [DannyeChase](https://twitter.com/DannyeChase)  
> Instagram [Sparky (Horrorimus)](https://www.instagram.com/horrorimus/) & [dannye_chase](https://www.instagram.com/dannye_chase/)  
> and Facebook [Dannye Chase](https://facebook.com/DannyeChase)  
> 


End file.
